Scars
by Shadow-The Black Queen
Summary: <html><head></head>Scars mark the memories, good and bad alike, and she could name everyone of hers. Each and every scar had a story behind it, and she remembered. Even the scars that weren't on her skin.</html>
1. Reality

She was running, her goal set firmly in her mind. Her feet silent as they pushed her forward, faster and faster. Her breathing was labored, her entire body was tired and aching; she didn't stop. If she stopped, she would become the prey, she would be the example. A flash of movement off to her right caught her eyes. Sonic. Sonic was still here. If she had the breath she would have called out, but she had no breath to spare. A mass of black hair tumbled out of the trees, Cheshire. So at least three were still in the game. For some reason it made her happy, she wasn't alone. The screaming cry of a hunting animal widened her eyes, her heart fluttered in terror; he had let THEM loose. She ran faster. A desperate half-cry that was quickly silenced brought tears to her eyes. She blinked quickly, tears would only blur her vision; she refused to look back. Death was nothing new. She was being hunted, she could hear the creatures' paws behind her, she was finished, death, the end. She couldn't move fast enough to get out of the way.

She woke screaming, tears dripping down her face. She'd been having these nightmares ever since Biyalia and that freak; he brought back memories, memories he shouldn't just left buried.

"Artemis, you're Artemis." She knew what would have happened if she hadn't woken up. "You're niece to the Green Arrow, his next prodigy. You're apart of Young Justice, a team set up by Batman for undercover work." Her body would have hit one of the trees, jarring her from her paralyzed state. "Your teammates are Robin, Batman's boy; Superboy, Superman's clone; Miss Martian, niece to Martian Manhunter; Aqualad, Atlantean; and Kid Flash, protégé of the Flash." A line of blood would have splattered across her face. "You have a love-hate relationship with Wally." A crunch. "You have an independent streak a mile wide." The sickening sound of teeth in flesh. "You make smartass remarks to kill mission tension." She would have felt her own blood joining in a rivulet down her temple."Red Arrow hates you." She would have shoved her fist into her mouth to keep herself from sobbing. "No one knows you." Blade would still be smiling. "You're Artemis, not Seven." He had been calling her name. "Seven died with Blade. You're Artemis. Artemis." She forced herself to stay perfectly still. "You can't cry" She had shut her eyes and held her breath, praying the thing wouldn't see her. She had to complete the mission. The mission at all costs. Mourning Blade would have to wait. "It was just a nightmare." The mission at all costs. "Artemis get a hold of yourself." She hadn't washed the blood off for a week, if you took away her make up the tattoos marked its place. "Just a dream"

"**The mission at all costs."**

"C'mon you're Artemis. You don't have enough of a heart to break."

"**The mission at all costs"**

"People are expendable."

"**The mission at all costs. The mission at all costs."**

The mission wasn't worth it. She could still hear his laugh. She cried harder. "Damn it Blade. You should have let me die!" She could still feel his arms around her. The mission at all costs. "I should have died with you!"

"**The mission at all costs**.**"**


	2. Existance

'Aqualad was speaking with the League via com-link. M'gann was humming sweetly and bustling around the kitchen. Robin was working on some kind of weird technical thingy. Artemis was making out with some kid with black hair and silver-blue eyes in the lounge.

Superboy was wailing on a training dummy.

Everything was nor…wait. Artemis was making out with some kid in the lounge!' Kid Flash immediately skidded to a halt and turned his body a full 180 degrees before speeding back towards the lounge. Freezing just outside the door to slow his breathing, which was unusually ragged.

"Seven," The voice was that of the boy, he didn't sound much older than the rest of the team. A harsh choking sound cut off his voice.

"Damnit! Why Mic? Why!" Artemis' voice sounded broken and grating as if her throat was closing. "You KNEW!"

"I…couldn't…let them…get to you…first." The boy panted. "You…still pack…one hell of a… punch Seven."

"You expected me to not hit you? After you kissed me while imitating Blade? How hard did I hit you?" Artemis questioned her voice different, concern darkening the sarcastic tongue.

"It…wasn't…you Seven." a wet hacking cough broke the comfortable silence.

"Mic, Mic? What's wrong?" Artemis was panicking now.

"THEY caught me… on my…way here. But… I made sure…that Jade… was ok."

"What is it with you boys and making sure WE survive?" Her voice was definitely choked now. Was she crying? Kid Flash was almost tempted to run into the room just to see. "Why don't you idiots realize life really isn't worth the trouble if you go and die on us. Mic, Mic, Mimic you listen to me! You are NOT allowed to die! You are not allowed to die on Jade! Not on ME!" Kid Flash could hear the desperate sounds of a man fighting to breath.

"Can't…help it… Seven. I was… lucky to make it…this far. You… know how it is… one shot… and we're just…down for the…count." he laughed, a terrible hacking sound. "Get…it? Count?… you're on…seven…and the rest…of us… get one."

"Stop talking you moron. I'm getting you to the med-bay." her voice was cracking and water logged, defiantly crying. "Save your breath." Flash couldn't stand still any longer, he rushed into the room picked up the other boy and ran full speed to the med-bay. Artemis would kill him for listening in, but… maybe she would show mercy. For whoever this was' sake.

"They transferred him to a civie hospital." Artemis muttered softly that night. "They say, they're optimistic. But I know. They don't think he'll last the night. I don't either." Kid Flash raised his eye brow at this. "Don't get me wrong, I'm praying for a miracle here. And I do not pray. But, those THINGS. They're designed to be OHK's. But thanks for taking him to the hospital." And with that she walked away.

Kid didn't want to ask the next day, didn't want to see her that vulnerable again; and Artemis didn't tell him. She didn't break down and cry, at least not where her teammates could see. And no one, not even Boy Wonder noticed the new make up streak under her eye. But that wasn't surprising. They hadn't noticed the others either.


	3. One Shot

.  
>They were the last. The only ones left. Folly, Narnia, Sonic, Blade… and now Mimic. <em>Gonegonegonegone<em>. All gone. Artemis slid down the wall clutching her open cell phone in her hand, tears streaming down her face. Cheshire and she, all that's left. All that's left. Nothing left for her. Her sobs caught harsh in her throat as she stared at the ceiling, her body was limp, there was no force left in her. She was a walking corpse, the living dead waiting to be returned to her casket.

A harder sob shook her body, casket? HA! They didn't get caskets they got shallow graves, if their bodies were found at all. A slit throat in the night. The crackle of bone beneath those THINGS teeth. That was all that waited for her. No love. No redemption. She was a failed experiment, she should not have lived this long.

Life. It should not belong to her. She _shouldn't_ be alive. She glanced down at her upturned wrist. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven X's; seven times she had died, she was down to two. Two lives left. She could take them herself. Two knives to the heart… but then Jade, Jade would be all alone. All alone, and lost in the shadows, that awful grinning mask hiding her tears. Yet death was inevitable. For everyone. The Justice League would die, Young Justice would take their place, and the new sidekicks after that. Her mother would die. Sportsmaster would die. No one could escape death. Everything belonged to death. Everything would return to death, as a child returns to its mother, nursing hurts and wounds; death would not heal her, life could not heal her; but love had dressed her wounds for a time, and could perhaps again. NO, she didn't want that pain! Not for herself. Not for whoever was foolish enough to fall in love with her.

_"You live your life, eyes open and heart closed." _Blade had told her that once.

_"Eyes open I can't be fooled, heart closed I can't be hurt." _Had been her response, he had chuckled at that and kissed her fiercely.

_"Keep telling yourself that."_ Her fingers rose to her lips, feeling his lingering. Blue eyes reopened, hoping to catch a last glimpse.

"I'm sorry Blade. I couldn't go back. I couldn't fine you. I couldn't bury you. Maybe you were still alive. Just barely? Hanging to life by a thread? Waiting for one of us?" but that wasn't possible and she knew it. Mimic had said it, how long ago? A day a week? She didn't know.

_"OHK, we've got one shot." _OHK, one hit kill. One chance to get away and Blade was dead, Mimic was dead, Sonic and Narnia and Folly _deaddeaddead, gonegonegone._

"We've only got one shot haven't we?" She asked to nonresponsive darkness, "One shot and that's it. We could just up and die one day, no fanfare, no hullabaloo. Just darkness. Just silence." She wiped away the tears that still clung to her face. "One shot."


	4. Life and Death

Artemis knew death._ Intimately_. She belonged to death. She knew its unforgiving frost. Its stale taste, one that lingered far too long in the mouth. God, she knew the_ fear_; the utter unbending _terror_ that consumed everything. The numbness. She _knew_ death.

She also knew life. She knew its warmth, chasing the cold of death from her body, though it couldn't completely scare it from her bones. She knew its flavor, the sweetness of it as it claimed her mouth like a kiss. The gratefulness that spread like electricity from the center of her being to the tip of each finger and toe, fizzing with the sheer knowledge that _she was alive_.

She had taken that beam, sacrificed one more life for her friends, it didn't matter, the cold of dead would evaporate, and she'd be back in the game. One more pawn being ordered to move by one King or another. But as the sharp feeling of the beam stilled, her body didn't hum. The alltoofamiliar feeling of a body being rebuilt didn't scorch her mind, nor did the painful beating of a heart trouble her. Artemis knew life and she knew death. This was neither.

It was not the emptiness, the sheer _coldness_ of death, but nor was it the loving heat of life, the absolute and utter _joy_ of breathing. This was just nothing. She felt like she was floating; and this…this nothing… this was paradise! No worry, no hate, no expectation of death around every corner. She wasn't afraid anymore. She didn't have to be strong anymore. Blissful nothing, _nothingnothingnothing_, she was giddy, ecstatic, hysterical. She was _**Free**_. No Sportsmaster. No Seven. No Artemis. Only, only her... only freedom. The word was sweeter on her life that the regenerated breath of life ever had been,_ freedom_, she nearly purred in happiness.

Everything splintered in a burst of light. And then a chill descended onto her, or rather she noticed a chill, since she was sure it had been there for a while. And suddenly, the unbreakable Artemis was crying, because that chill told her that she was still alive. And for the first time… there was no rush of joy, no tidal wave of unspeakable gratitude…she's emptier than death had ever left her.

"No." the word was a whisper against her chapped lips. "_nonononononono_. How did you do that! Send me back! I was finally dead!" M'gann's was sobbing, Wally was muttering hystericaly, Kaldur was… well she assumed it was cussing, the string of Atlantean was a bit hard to understand, Robin was stoic but that was to be expected as the protégé of The Bat, Connor was unreadable, Artemis didn't like that, and their Mentor's were standing dumbfounded, obviously not expecting whatever scenario had taken place after her 'death'. She noticed all of this in a split second, as she had been taught to do. And she hated it. She had been _DEAD_. Reallytrulydead. With a murmured prayer in Vietnamese for forgiveness she reached for two arrows…only to find them gone. Anger bubbled in her stomach because !

Someone wrapped their arms around her body, lifting her up off the cold steel in the process. Warmth trickled back into her freezing body. "Artemis. We thought you had died." The soft, strong voice of her 'leader' broke her train of thought. He cared, they cared. Something new struck her where she assumed most people kept their hearts, something just as sharp as any arrow. She hugged back. The tears in her eyes now were for a different reason.

Someone had cared. Cared that she died, cared that this might be the time she might not come back. Hadn't known that she would come back, that it had even been a possibility. He hadn't missed her because she was a good spy, or a dead shot, not because she had more experience with games than he'd even have a prayer of, or even because she was a fun toy; he had missed her because she was Artemis. Because she was a member of the team, because she _mattered_.

And suddenly, she knew, even if she had found those two arrows, she wouldn't have been able to do it. To end it once and for all, to flash those Kings one last symbol of arrogant disobedience and end her pitiful existence. Because they mattered to her too. She had sacrificed herself, she hadn't died trying to run, hide, or save her own skin. She had willing put herself on the line for the people in this room. Because they mattered. She tightened her grip on Kaldur.

"I did it for the team, I regret nothing."


	5. Heroes

Artemis watched as Green Arrow sucked up the publicity like a sponge, flashing million watt smiles to the cameras, his body straight and strong. He betrayed no tiredness or weakness to the civilian eye; but Artemis could see it. She always could. She could see it in her teammates too, in Richard, Dick, even if he didn't know she had figured out the face beneath the domino mask of Robin. But she also knew that hero's could never show weakness, no, that was a privilege reserved for civilians. A hero could never be tired. Not when they were called away _every damn night_ for a week straight and got a collective_ four_ hours of sleep. Not when they were beat to a bloodied pulp and forced to smile in front of the camera's when all they wanted to do was collapse and pray that the pain went away.

And every time _she_ flashed a smile at those cameras? It. Was. A. Lie. But they were beautiful lies, and she lied so easily. Lies slipped off her tongue without a second thought. She lied and lied and lied. "Why aren't you in your costume?" _Because it's bloody and torn from making sure you're still alive._ "Because GA wanted to upgrade it." " Why don't you spend more time with the team?" _Because I never wanted to be a part of this team, I'm only insurance so no one dies_. "Because my I like spending time with my mom." "Why do you spend so many nights in the mountain?" _Because the League won't let me go home._ "Because it's easier to just crash here." so many, many lies. But heroes couldn't lie, lying was reserved for villains and villains only; nothing a villain said could be believed because villains could lie as easily as they breathed.

Artemis _never wanted_ to be in front of those damned cameras, all the lights and cheers and questions and adoration and hatred, all of it direct and obvious. She couldn't take it. She wasn't trained like the others, wasn't trained to love the spotlight. Hell she wasn't even trained to keep the enemy _alive_ after the fact. She was the hero of the shadows. Her reality was one of people who simply disappeared; abusers, pedophiles, extortionists, killers, innocents, parents, children. It didn't matter, they all were the same, there one moment and gone the next. She didn't fit into this arena of Halos and Horns. Because she could see it, the endless game of cat and mouse that the heroes and villains played. The heroes kept the villains alive under pretense of noble and infallible reason, but in reality they knew if an opponent died, their place would be taken almost immediately by a new, stronger, smarter one. The heroes kept the villains alive merely because it was more convenient; the mouse was simply playing with the cat. And the villains? They were more or less just enjoying the ride, the nemeses of the League had no reason to do what they did, they were intelligent, fairly untrained; they were in it for the fun. It was a rush to run from a hero, to have a plan go flawlessly. It was a cat playing with a mouse. She would rather disappear from the arena, fall back into the shadows. Become the unseen protector of the weak and the strong alike. After all didn't the cat and mouse antagonize each other? Didn't they both hurt the other the same?

But people needed heroes they could see, not enigmas that were frightening and terrible. They needed clear, distinct lines between _good_and**evil**. They needed** black** and _white_. Civilians needed light shrouded, halo wearing heroes. Civilians needed blood soaked, dirty, disgusting villains. They didn't need Artemis, not her. After all she fit neither description, she was a shade of grey. She was the blood soaked shadow that **watched** and **protected** from the darkness, she was the grey no one wanted to admit existed. No one wanted to admit the line between hero and villain was truly as thin as it really was. No one wanted to see that their heroes were really no better than their villain counterparts, reality was a bitter pill, a pill few liked to swallow. So she would keep playing 'Artemis', people needed heroes to believe in. And she guessed heroes needed people to believe in them, it kept them from crossing the line she so carefully walked. And sometimes, deep in the recesses of her own mind, she wished that it wasn't that way. She wanted it to be as easy as a breath and she could be a halo wearing member of Young Justice, soaking up the praise. She yearned for reality to disappear. But at the same time she knew that that could never happen. She would never, _could never_ be pure, untainted. She _couldn't_ fight the battle her teammates fought, not with their singlemindedness and not with their utter _faith_ that what they were doing was wholly and completely _right_.

Artemis didn't kid herself she knew she was playing with fire, that one breath of wind and her careful tightrope act would tumble. Some would see her as a hero others a villain, but the lines would be drawn, she would have no one's trust. So she'd pray that no one looked too carefully into her quiver, and find the steel tipped arrows with the jagged edges for just in case. She'd hope that no one looked too carefully beneath her makeup and cloths to see the lists and scars scattered across her body. Because right now she was a hero, and she needed someone, _anyone,_ to believe in her.

* * *

><p>Please tell me what you think of how this story is turning out, your review would be greatly appreciated and informative.<p> 


	6. Bury

Objects lay scattered across and through the carefully tended altar, pictures in watertight frames protected from wind and sun, a cup here, a vase with carefully cut flowers there, small toys scattered gaily across dark, unforgiving wood. Carefully Artemis removed the dying flowers and replaced them with a new bouquet; this was her ritual. _Their_ ritual. They had created this spot, deep within the Jungle they were raised in, when their caretakers were…replaced, or out, they would retreat here. Folly and Jade being the oldest would tell stories, each would hold a small object, one easily concealed, and spin stories. Artemis missed it. She had only been here with the people she loved the most twice. And now a silver spin-top, a tattered book, a tarnished necklace, and a toy car were all that remained of the people she loved. It _burned_, this feeling, it twisted and writhed inside of her, it swallowed her heart, scorching the delicate muscle. Burns made all the worse by her inability to hate the person who had set the fire.

Artemis fingered one of her first additions to the collection, a coin with two faces. It had been a "tag-team" mission, two people, an easy in-out, except it hadn't been. They were running, legs pumping as fast as they could, she was slightly faster than Folly even though he was considerably taller, machine gun fire chased them, razor wire cuts crisscrossed their bodies, Folly was limping, Artemis/Seven was favoring her less injured left leg. Folly had kissed her, her first kiss, and it was bloody and desperate, Folly's lips melted with hers, both their blood dripping from wounds, tumbling in rivers down their bodies. But she'd never regret it. Nothing in heaven or hell and certainly nothing on earth could make her. They had promised each other when Jade disappeared and things had gotten… hectic; promised they would live or die _together_. When death came to collect them, which surely was only a few short moments away, they would go with the taste of each other still lingering on their lips. And she'd be damned, well more damned, before she regretted it. But she was alive now. And he wasn't. And the double faced coin that Folly always carried was her only reminder.

A strange contraption was the next thing her fingers met, a slightly irregular shaped piece of metal, warped and twisted as if through fire. But pristine, the dust that ever so slightly marred the rest of her treasures didn't dare touch the glimmering… thing. For a moment Artemis thought she could hear the odd lilting tune Narnia would play on the thing. Narnia never had a name for the thing, she just played it; little melodies that still haunted Artemis, still causing tears to gather in stormy eyes. Artemis quickly relinquished the twisted object, Narnia just _hurt_. Artemis could still see her soft brown-red hair as the wind whipped it into knots, the sun hitting the wild mane just right so it appeared a soft red-purple, and the glittering aquamarine eyes that always,_ always _held laughter.

Artemis closed her eyes firmly, giving her head a slight shake, trying (and failing miserably) to dislodge the images of her best friend from her skull. Narnia, Amaranth, sweet unfaltering Amaranth (though that wasn't her given name, Artemis was sure.) She was so delicate, like the most beautiful flower, Artemis had never admitted it, but she was always afraid when a large storm came through, terrified it would sweep Amaranth away. Artemis laughed, slightly hysterical, tears dripped freely down her cheeks, carrying the foundation away in their current. Amaranth, who loved and loved unconditionally. Amaranth, who laughed easily and sang freely. Amaranth, little Amaranth, who always slept with her battered teddy. Amaranth, who's teddy was found on the Jungle floor. Amaranth who hung like her name sake from the tree overhead. Artemis covered her mouth a duel effort to both stem her sobs and to keep herself from getting sick again. She was a killer, yes, but that sight haunted her days and nights alike; contrary to popular suspicion she did indeed have a heart. One that ached more with every second she spent in this forsaken place.

Her finger slipped across the smooth wood of the shrine only to stop as it encountered a mar, nothing big, a single nick in the otherwise flawless surface, probably made by a knife or some other kind of blade. _Blade_. The mere thought of his name set her ablaze, transformed the fire to an inferno to rival Hell. He was, had been, her partner, her tether to reality, he had been her everything. Blade had kissed her first, long after death and life became a grey area for her, after her mind was so far gone it was a wonder she could function. He had looked at her one night, after an assignment had gone wrong, as they so often did, _"You look like hell"_ he had stated that infuriating smile on his lips, the one she was loath to admit she loved, she hadn't responded. _"I'm fine, See?"_ he had spun around to show her that he was indeed unharmed aside from some minor scrapes and bruises, unavoidable in their line of work. _"You can't protect everyone."_ She had hated him for pointing that out, because she _had_ to. She needed to _protect_ them. He was the Wonderland to her Alice, what could Alice do without her Wonderland? There would be nothing to discover, nothing to love, nothing to protect, nothing to live for. Blade had kissed her, drawing her from her daze, trying desperately to re-tether her to a reality she despised. He always succeeded. Her breath caught in her throat, the corners of her eyes stung, she wanted him _back_.

Artemis shoved herself away from the shrine, she couldn't do it, she couldn't stand it, Artemis curled tightly around the only thing she could touch in this god forsaken place, her only remaining source of physical comfort, a disfigured cat like thing, with a severely stitched smile that seemed to cut from ear to pointed ear. She lay on her side, the strange creature clutched in her death grip the shrine still fully in view, and she sobbed, tears tumbling in torrents down her face and her body shaking. Artemis didn't know how long she stayed like that, face buried in her old Cheshire-cat unable to move. It didn't matter really, time in general was now nothing more than an hourglass, a steady ticking away of time until it inevitably ran out. With trembling fingers Artemis reached into her bag, the one she had almost forgotten in her rush of memories, and removed a battered, black choker, gently placing it on the shrine. She hurriedly resecured her grip on the stuffed animal, An, and buried her face in the soft creature. Struggling to breathe, she turned from the shrine, picking up her bag as she went, An still nested in her arms.

She had done it, just as they had all promised, Artemis only hoped someone would be there to place An in his rightful place upon the shrine once she was gone, it was all she hoped for anymore. To be reunited with her lost ones in death. To die with the taste of their names on her tongue. To sleep peacefully once more, surrounded by the feel of them. But she couldn't. Not yet. There were others now, others who meant almost as much as those buried in the shrine. Perhaps they would be the ones to inter her there, beneath the stones, perhaps it would be they who kept the names of those sleepers alive.


	7. To Protect

Her bow lay off to the side, the snapped fiberglass useless to her now. She was holding her own in any case. The baddie who had deemed himself her sorry victim was attempting to knock her down with a style no more refined than a drunken brawler. That was not to say he wasn't a good brawler, much to Artemis' chagrin, she was in no mood to deal with pain right now. Using the momentum of his glancing blow to her shoulder, Artemis spun on the ball of her foot, her opposite heel making contact, very satisfying contact, with the idiot's skull and sending him to kiss the concrete. With a second glance to make sure he would stay down this time Artemis rushed to help her comrades, though when they became that she didn't really know.

A single flash of silver was all the warning she had before Robin's crook had a hold that even boy-wonder couldn't break, and a glittering knife held to his throat. Artemis was no longer amused. A soft _click_ echoed through the warehouse, it was one that the hero's couldn't place but one that the crooks knew all too well. A Gun. That got their attention. Guns tended to do that. Artemis fought her urge to pull the trigger in her normal one-two- one succession, which would leave the idiot who dared try to hurt what was hers with two bullets in his heart and one buried in his brain. But then Batman would be unhappy with her… damn, she needed the Bat's support right now.

"Let the birdy fly," Artemis hissed the gun pressed to his temple, none of her team had seen her move. "Or you will never see the sky again."

"You can't pull the trigger before I slit his throat." Artemis noticed the man's hands trembling; he didn't believe his own words. As response, Artemis pistol whipped him.

"You're one lucky bastard." Artemis growled as she spat on his unconscious form. "Robin come here." She ordered and the trembling boy obliged. "Now if any of you other bastards decides to try to take a swipe at my kid, you're dead. Got it? Spread the word. I'm no Bats." Like that rats they were, the rest of the men skittered away into the shadows, unwilling to risk the ire of someone, hero or not, with a gun. "Robin are you ok? Look at me." Her tone was softer than anything the Young Justice team had heard her use. "Robin, sweetie, c'mon let me see." Her hands, calloused as they were, were surprisingly gentle Robin noticed as she lifted his face so he looked her in the eyes and she could see where the knife had been against his throat. For a moment Robin was speechless, there was undiluted terror in the grey depths that were the resident archer's eyes and barely suppressed anger that lingered just beneath the surface, just like his mother's when the other kids used to pick on him. "He didn't get you." It was spoken so softly, Robin knew he wasn't supposed to have heard her. "Thank The Fates." He had to read her lips to understand that one. And with no further ado she pulled him into a tight hug. He squeaked, Robin squeaked; Artemis did NOT hug.

"Something must be wrong with the laws of the universe today; I swear I saw Artemis hugging Robin." In an instant Robin was released from the blonde's vice-like grip and Wally was rubbing the back of his head.

"Goddamnit Batman, if you send them in blind again, I will start shooting the hench's sorry asses." Robin and Kid Flash leaned closer to the door to hear the blonds tirade.

"The League doesn't kill."

"Well then it's a good thing I'm not part of the League then isn't it."

"You _will_ follow our rules"

"Every time I look at him all I can see are _her_ blue eyes, don't make me give her up again Batman, you. Will. Regret. It." Artemis shook her head, shoving back the last image of Amaranth's dead, blue eyes.


	8. Lamb to the Slaughter

She was angry, no beyond angry, beyond furious, there was only _one_ price for treason. There had always been only one price for betrayal. Artemis trembled as she heard the Batman discussing table-turning with a member of The Shadows in the interrogation room. Unable to shake the gruesome images of past traitors from her mind, tears and bile decide to make their presence known. "Yes this is so aster! We'll finally have inside information on the Shadows." Artemis couldn't stop herself. Her hand snapped out, striking the one way glass: startling the poor Hispanic looking woman on the other side with the sound.

"You would condemn her to die." Her voice was a low hiss that filled the room. Robin was unable to form a response. "Her and her husband and her three little children. They would all die." The grey eyes pierced deep into the domino mask of the younger boy, searing everything inside the child (for all his ability, Artemis KNEW he was still a child and therefore did not _truly_ know what his mentor asked of this woman), he didn't even wonder how she knew how many children the woman had, "Children in _pieces_ across the floor. Husband _nailed_ to the wall. They would wait until she saw them, they would have recorded it all for her to watch, and then, only then would they bless her with death." Artemis turned her stormy eyes from the now shaking bird, forcefully restraining her urge to vomit at the memories her mind conjured at her all too true words, "She would be a message for anyone and everyone who dared think about turning traitor. Could you live with that on your conscience? Now that you know, could you ever ask that of someone?"

"But Batman…" Artemis' burning eyes cut him off sharply, Batman was no angel.

"Batman knows full well what he's asking her to do." Her tone held a finality that not even the World's Greatest Detective could match, and one that Robin knew not to evade. Something about her felt… _dangerous_ to Robin, not dangerous in the normal 'screw with me and I will pin you to a wall via your favorite hoodie', no it was more of an 'I'm not mentally stable' dangerous. How she managed to look perilously close to physically sick and downright murderous at the same time, Robin would probably never know. But the way her stance shifted, how she rebalanced herself as if in preparation for a fight, he knew that something was really _really _wrong. "he was the cleanup crew for the last one he sent to witness protection." It hissed from clenched teeth; the woman broke, "kẻ phản bội váng" Artemis spat the words, eyes betraying disgust and sorrow in equal measure, "your blood is not on my hands"

"Artemis, that is enough." Artemis' gaze was redirected, she hated when he took that tone with her.

"Don't 'Artemis' me, Kaldur'ahm. Don't you dare." Her voice was a slow and poisonous hiss, "The kid needs to know what he's getting into."

"He knows well enough, Artemis." his voice had lowered too.

"I won't have another sacrifice on my hands. I won't. I'm stretched thin as is bóng tối" Robin and the rest stared uncomprehending at the two before them, the way they _moved_, they were all sure they hadn't been moving like that a second ago, they were ever so slightly rebalancing themselves, as wolves do before they launch, all muscles tensed and readied; as they shifted, they danced, the airless, breathless grace of predators.

"There is no need to scare the child."

"Hey! The child is right here! And is resenting being called a child."

"Hush, Little Bird." Artemis half cooed, half growled.

"Artemis, Cara, he doesn't need to know. Save him from himself, Cara. Hold your tongue." Kaldur crooned, body still taught. Something in his tone seemed to reach Artemis. With swift movements, harsh and clipped, not wasting an ounce of energy, she reached into her bag and threw something at him. He caught it with reflexes he hadn't needed in years.

"Your responsibility."


	9. Ill or Injured

Artemis was confined to her bed, she felt like she was _burning._ 'What did I do to deserve this? I did what I was told, I followed orders, I was the perfect soldier, the perfect daughter'. The thoughts raced through her head, fuzzy and dim, seen though the haze of pain. 'I was a good girl'. Cracks appeared over Artemis' skin, bloody and black, separating skin and fat and muscle and occasionally down straight through bone. The term her Father had given it was 'shedding', a genetic anomaly the scientists had not accounted for when they took the daughter of two non-metas for experimentation.

_Kaldur knew that if she opened her eyes they would be that awful, sickly yellow-green, like an old bruise._

Tremors wracked her, uncontrollable twitches moved her body against her wishes, tears streamed down her face, lights danced in front of her eyes, every little sound was a cacophony in her head, and pain ran up and down her body in a constant stream. But she couldn't move. She couldn't scream, Alice made sure of that; instead she whimpered, too quietly for someone to hear, but still it was something. She wanted_** NO**_ needed her mask, the barrier between her and Alice, God _**DAMN**_ the "great and mighty" Justice League for taking it! Damn them!

_Kaldur gently wiped the blood from her face, being extra careful around her vulnerable lips and delicate eyes, even as both bled uncontrollably._

Another surge of pain swept her body, leaving her ragged breath locked in her frozen lungs, the wire through her lips tightening as a fresh set of tears blurred her already hazy vision.

_Kaldur pulled the syringe out, the sedative administered. At least now she could sleep._

And Artemis slept though torrents of pain caused her body to seize. Artemis slept, while Alice busily buzzed, peeling layers of skin away, fixing to bone and muscle, to eyes and lips and fingers, to the scars. Artemis slept.

_Kaldur kept watch, careful never to leave her for too long. Watching as bone knit, muscles strengthened, skin healed, leaving only her original scars as testament to her strength. After all it had always been she who watched over him when he was ill or injured; she did so even now when open affection for each other was dangerous._


	10. Play Pretend

It was always the same game, _"c'mon let's play pretend",_ they would pretend to be happy and pretend to love their mother and their father, they pretended that the world was happy, they pretended they didn't miss the sticky heat of Vietnam, pretended that these stinking streets were what was perfect. But it was all a game, _"let's play pretend",_ those words still held immense power over her. Between the screaming, and the crying, and the terror, and the fear (some of it caused by her own perfectly manicured hands). She nearly lost herself. She did lose herself, occasionally, to the emptiness behind her smiling mask.

"Let's play pretend" Her not so little sister called, voice soft and low, feet swinging back and forth over the edge of the city, kicking at the little lights far too far below her to actually manage to put out. Wind whipped both the black and blonde hair into long streams of shadows bled of individuality by the night. "You'll be the Hatter and I'll be the Hare! We'll have wonderful tea parties, and we can find a Dormouse to tell us stories!"

"Bring your head down from the clouds before the birds think you a snake. Alice and Cheshire aren't allowed at the tea parties remember?"

"Ah but we wouldn't be Alice and Cheshire, now would we?" Jade looked sadly at her grinning sister. She knew where her sister's glassy eyed mind was, far away, diving through the shifting colors of the Aurora Borealis of the fantasy world she had built long ago, untethered from the dark reality that had for so long claimed her soul.

"You're right. What way shall we return to wonderland, Hare?"

"Why down the Rabbit Hole of course!" Her Alice smiled gently, and Jade gave a tight smile back.

"On Three?"

"One… two… " Artemis jumped from the edge of the building. "Three" Jade sighed and jumped after the free falling blond. Jade kept a close eye on her sister, and sighed in relief as she fired off a grapple before she met the Caterpillar. Mad laughter cracked from the blonds lungs, unable to help herself.

Jade felt her heart break a little more, her sister was always like this when she was shedding, she reverted to the mad little girl Jade had always protected, not from the outside world but from herself. With a tap she opened a com link to Kaldur, letting the desperate boy know what was going on.

"Kaldur. Yeah I've found her. Of course. Yes. Thank you Kaldur. We will be there soon." With a second tap, she ended the call. "Come along Alice, the tea party awaits." Blue grey eyes, wide, glassy and innocent, turned towards her.

"Finally! Hatter's becoming slower lately, normally he'd be here with the tea already." Alice skipped after her sister, clambering across roofs and skirting humanity. Jade made sure her sister stayed close until they got to Mount Justice. She grabbed her sister's keeper's wrist, and gave a sad smile to Kaldur.

"I meant what I said earlier. Thank you, from the bottom of my black and shriveled heart. Thank you." Kaldur nodded hugging Artemis gently to his chest.

"And you as well."

"Poor little Alice, you've gone quite mad all alone here in Wonderland haven't you?"


	11. Red Queen and Red Roses

She knew, knew in the pit of her stomach, as she fired arrow after arrow after arrow into the training dummies, settled into the shadows she knew. She was her father's daughter thru and thru. She knew she would always be more comfortable with serrated edges and tips that do just as much damage going in as coming out. She knew she would always be far more at ease in the shadows where she need not blink dazedly. She knew she would always have the image of bloodied corpses and hands painted red with blood burned into her mind. She knew murder would always be an option. She knew her hands would never come clean. She knew who to find and where to find them if she needed weapons, money, drugs. She was fully aware that vengeance and revenge would always be on her mind.

She was raised to smile at blood and pain (though she hid just how much of that training resided within her still from the world). She was raised to blackmail, extort, steal, kill. That was her destiny from childhood. She knew that. She had accepted that.

She knew 'neutrality' wouldn't, couldn't help her. But somehow, impartiality made her feel better. She was the one people from every walk of life could come to and spill their bloody-red secrets to, whisper to her all their murder-tinged dreams to, all their anger-riddled problems. And she found it easy. An easily arranged fall from a tightrope for the "bastard" that cheated on his sword-swallowing lover(now that she thought about it, she never did learn his name. She did however learn his lover, the one who requested her services, killed herself not too long after), a strategically placed 'lost teddy' during a rather messy divorce (that one had forced her a twinge of guilt. But just a twinge, at that point she was already too far gone.), a spiked drink for a philandering wife ("from the one at the end of the bar"), a plane crash for the CEO of a major corporation that bought and destroyed the lives of his competitors, it was disgustingly easy. Maybe she was mad. Artemis laughed, of course she was mad, she always had been.

Artemis carried the croquet bat, searching through roses for her ball; she couldn't find it. Her hands came away red as the roses. "I need a new croquet ball! Off with a head!" Because Artemis was not Alice, Artemis knew what stained those white roses red. She knew why the grass of the croquet field was slippery and black in the darkness. Artemis was never Alice, Alice was innocence and childishness and hope; no Artemis had always been the Red Queen, red as her roses, red as the hearts on her red gown that hid the red stains. Dull grey eyes gazed at her filthy rose garden, roses painted by bloody hands on every surface of the too white room, to her kingdom, filthy grey buildings scraping at the sky, desperate for clean air and sunlight. There was none to be found down this rabbit hole. Even the Bat and his little birds were being swallowed; soon they'd be mad as hatters. And she would still sit on her throne of corpses and bleeding hearts, painting her red roses, playing croquet with unwilling partners. It was a very good thing no one came into her room in the mountain.


	12. Just a flu

Stormy eyes gazed languidly out the window, unseeingly. Bright sparks of colored light dropped across her skin as the crystals hung from the ceiling danced to unheard music.

"'Mis?" Dick knocked on the half way open door. "'Mis are you ok? You didn't come to class today."

"Hmm? Oh." Artemis didn't move from her cat like curl. "I was sick over break and I'm still getting over it. Bett took notes for me."

There was silence for a moment; Richard examined the room Gotham Academy had granted Artemis. A multitude of crystals danced sending darts of light around the room, plants grew in the windowsill in garishly colored pots, odd little trinkets littered the surfaces, a slightly battered stuffed animal smiled at him from Artemis' limp arms, a dainty tea set steamed before her. "Would you like a cup of tea? It's white peony."

"Sure" Richard said softly, there was something vulnerable about Artemis just now, she was like a rabbit he didn't want to startle. Artemis lifted herself gingerly, trying not to disturb her still healing seams, and poured him a measure of glinting gold.

They sat in silence, taking sips every once in a while of the sweet tea, Artemis' eyes still trained on nothing, her mind seemingly thousands of miles away.

It felt odd trying to talk to her out of his Robin costume. "So how was your break?" he nearly cringed at how stupid that sounded, she had just told him she'd been sick. She just shrugged.

"I had the flu"

Another silence.

"Did I miss anything important today?"

"Not really."

"That's good."

Silence.

"Just the flu?"

"Just the flu."


End file.
